


Rule Number One

by bioticbarbie (reddominae)



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Earthborn (Mass Effect), F/M, Fade to Black, Implied Sexual Content, Mass Effect Reverse Big Bang 2019, Mild Language, Tenth Street Reds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 15:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17470433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddominae/pseuds/bioticbarbie
Summary: “So, what is it that you do, Shepard?” Garrus had asked her sometime after the usual pleasantries had been exchanged.“Ooo, gonna have to stop ya right there Vakarian,” Shepard tossed back another shot of whatever it was that she was drinking, “If we’re gonna keep talking,” she smiled and placed a hand on Garrus’ knee, “which I most definitely want-- we’re not gonna talk work.  I came here to get away from it for a little while and I’m not too keen to be bringing it back around,”“I can respect that Shepard,” Garrus had downed the rest of his drink, “Rule number one: no talking shop”Shepard had laughed at that.  That big, beautiful, full laugh he was falling so quickly for, “Like rules, do ya Vakarian?”“Only when they don’t get in my way,”-----An AU where Shepard never left the Reds, Garrus became a C-Sec agent with a renegade streak, and neither one of them find out until it's too late.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am absolutely THRILLED to be participating in the Mass Effect Reverse Big Bang 'test' this go around. I love our fandom and to be a part of this great collaboration is such a joy. I had the immense privilege of writing a piece for jubberry (be sure to check her out on tumblr!) and her beautiful piece of Shakarian art. It immediately captured my imagination and the rest is history. I hope you enjoy this as much I as did writing it :)

 

 

_:: Here.  Grabbed a booth in the back.  First round on me. -G ::_

     Garrus closed his omni-tool and relaxed back into the booth, his arms stretching out to rest atop the almost-sticky leather seats.  There was the usual crowd at the Dark Star today, the same old types even if the faces did change from week to week. It was why he liked the place.  Not many C-Sec agents visited the club either, which was always a bonus in Garrus' opinion, and the handful that did kept to themselves. It was better for everyone that way.

     He wouldn’t have known about the Dark Star if it hadn’t been for a particularly nasty case that had brought him to this side of the Citadel.  Months of undercover investigative work had come to a head over the course of a grizzly weekend, and after all was said and done-- case closed and body bags sent to the morgue. Garrus needed a drink.  The Dark Star had simply been the closest that day. Lucky for him, that was when he met _her._

     Garrus had noticed her as soon as he stepped into the foggy club.  It was hard not to with her shockingly red hair; It had reminded him of fire.  She had sat alone at the bar, with a duffle bag at her feet, one of the handles wrapped around an ankle.  She was chatting amicably with the bartender, old friends it seemed, and had several empty shot glasses lined up in front of her.  When Garrus had walked past her to grab a seat at the end of the bar, their eyes had met briefly and in that second she winked. He hadn’t  known what to do with that so he had simply kept walking, but his heart was a little lighter.

      It was sometime around  his third or fourth drink, after the memory of his weekend had become a bit faded, that he had finally gotten the courage to go and talk to her.  He noticed that she had added four more shot glasses to her collection, seven in total-- not that he was counting. All lined up in a pretty row before her.  Needless to say, they were both a bit fuzzy. It had worked in his favor though. He had tried to be cool and had attempted a compliment to break the ice, but when he went to lean against the bar with his elbow and missed, she had laughed.  Loud and unashamed. It was beautiful.

    “So, what is it that you do, Shepard?” Garrus had asked her sometime after the usual pleasantries had been exchanged.

    “Ooo, gonna have to stop ya right there Vakarian,” Shepard tossed back another shot of whatever it was that she was drinking, “If we’re gonna keep talking,” she smiled and placed a hand on Garrus’ knee, “which I most definitely want-- we’re not gonna talk work.  I came here to get away from it for a little while and I’m not too keen to be bringing it back around,”

    “I can respect that Shepard,” Garrus had downed the rest of his drink, “Rule number one: no talking shop”

    Shepard had laughed at that.  That big, beautiful, full laugh he was falling so quickly for, “Like rules, do ya Vakarian?”

    “Only when they don’t get in my way,”

     After that the two had talked about everything and nothing.  Even with alcohol painting the memories of that evening, it had been perfect.  Garrus couldn’t get enough of her. The way she had smiled when he spoke of Palaven, or the way her nose would scrunch up just so when she laughed.  And she had laughed a lot-- there was a freedom in her laughter , one that Garrus couldn’t help but envy. Then there were her eyes, green like a bright neon, which had shined all night under the multi-colored club lights.  He knew she had caught him staring a few times but he couldn’t help it.

     Garrus’ omni-tool buzzed.

  _:: On the way.  Traffic. I’m 10 minutes out.  Save me a dance? -S ::_

  _:: And have you step on my foot again? -G ::_

  _:: You know good and well I was pushed smart ass -S ::_

  _:: So you say, but... I guess I can risk bodily harm once more -G ::_

     Garrus hesitated, gloved talons hovering above his omni-tool’s keyboard.  

  _::  You’re worth it -G ::_

     Flopping his head back onto the seat, Garrus snapped his omni-tool closed and groaned.   _What are you doing Vakarian?_ Garrus searched the pre-fab ceiling tiles for an answer, but all he ended up finding was a mysterious stain that he didn’t want to think on too closely.  

     That first night had been a whirlwind, one that Garrus hadn’t wanted to end.  Eventually, Shepard had excused herself after an alarm on her omni-took had reminded her of previous obligations.  It wasn’t until Garrus had gotten back to his own apartment and ready for bed that he realized he hadn’t gotten any of Shepard’s information.  The one time he meets someone, and not just anyone mind you, but someone as spectacular as Shepard, and he forgot to get her number. He couldn’t believe his stupidity.  

     His mistake led him to visit the Dark Star several times over the next week.  It was on the other side of the Citadel from his usual beat, so he’d take a C-Sec car to get through the traffic. The Executor frowned upon such things, but Garrus frowned upon letting psychotic black market doctors get away, so he called it an even trade.

     It was on Garrus’ third trip to the club when he’d finally crossed paths with her again.  This time around he was the one sitting at the bar when she had come walking in. She had walked in with two younger humans, a male and a heavily tattooed woman, and Garrus’ heart sunk a bit.  Had he made a fool of himself trying to see her again? Had she moved on?

     He needn’t have worried.  The vice that had held his heart captive slowly eased as Garrus saw Shepard light up when she saw him.  He chuckled to himself when she had come to full stop in front of her companions and the two had crashed into her back causing her to lurch forward and her cheeks to heat.  She had quickly shooed the two away to some corner, but not before the man of the group made some joke and ribbed her with an elbow.

     Garrus ordered drinks for himself and Shepard which were placed in front of him just as Shepard sat next to him.

     “Here ya are, Vakarian,” the bartender placed a hand on their hip, “nice to see you again Shepard.  Glad you’re both here at the same time today. Don’t know if I could handle both of your sorry moping faces another day this week.  You were getting bad for business,” the bartender smiled before turning to walk away, “swap information this time, hmm?”

     Shepard has blushed furiously while Garrus had stared slightly open mouthed at her.  Garrus was the one who had recovered first.

     “So, can I have your extranet address?”

     Shepard chuckled, a bit shy, and pulled up her omni-tool, “You know if I hadn’t seen you today I was contemplating on giving up on seeing you again,”

     “I guess it’s my lucky day,”

     “Yeah, mine too,”

     And that had been two months ago.  Six dates in total, and each one better than the last.  Today marked number seven, not that Garrus was counting.  

    The Dark Star’s synthesized beats buzzed through Garrus, the thrumming bass familiar to him now.  The past two months had been life changing for him and all because of a small red headed human woman.  Shepard changed everything.

     His father wouldn’t approve, but Garrus had stopped worrying about what his father wanted a long time ago.  Sol would like Shepard he was sure, but that was once she stopped berating him for not telling her sooner. The real question though, the one that was eating him alive and had kept him up all night, was what did Shepard think?  They had already talked about so much but there was still so much he didn’t know, that he wanted to know. He wanted to have that chance. Did she?

     A warm body slid into the booth next to Garrus, pulling him out of his musings,

     “Sorry I’m late Garrus,” Shepard leaned up and placed a soft kiss on his mandible.  Garrus smiled in returned and placed an arm around her shoulders. Turians didn’t kiss like humans did, especially in greeting, but Garrus would be lying if he said her kiss didn’t spark along his spine.

     “It’s good Shepard, gave me time to scope out the place,”

     Shepard threw him a smirk as she waved for a server to stop by their table, “Oh yeah?  See anything good,”

     “Well,” Garrus drawled, “besides a very suspicious stain on the ceiling in the corner nothing too exciting.  That couple from last time is here though,”

     Shepard’s hand fell out of the air like a stone as she whipped her head around scanning the club eagerly, “The Elcor and Asari couple?! Who got asked to leave because indecent exposure?”

     “The very same,” Garrus discreetly pointed to the dance floor, “looks like their clothes are still on though.  I’m sure the staff were told to limit their drinks,” Shepard hummed in agreement and watched the couple, amusement permeating her features.  

     “So what’s eating you, Garrus?” Shepard asked.  

     “What?”

     “Well, since I got here you’ve been nervously drumming against the seat, and your leg has been bouncing rather sporadically,” Shepard side-eyed him, but her tone kind.

     Garrus swallowed thickly and carefully placed his arms on the table, hands clasped. _Now or never Vakarian._  

     “Shepard, as you know— we’ve— you and I have —,” Garrus fumbled for the right thing to say, “these past two months— I mean, well…” Garrus sighed, his entire body slumping forward.  How was he supposed to tell her?

     “Oh,” Shepard replied, voice small and a bit detached, “Right.  Yes, I see,” she cleared her throat and sat up taller extending a hand to the turian, “Garrus, it has been a pleasure knowing you,” her voice became tight a hair’s breadth away from breaking, “best of luck in all you do,”

_Best of luck…?_ Garrus head snapped up so quick his visor jumped slightly at the force, “What? No! Shepard that’s not what I—,” Garrus grasped Shepard’s hand with both of his, cradling it in his grasp, desperate to say what he needed to, “Shepard, what are we?--  No, that’s not what I want to say,”

     “What _are_ you trying to say Garrus?”

     “Shepard,” Garrus looked straight into Shepard’s face and held her open gaze, “Shepard, these past two months have been amazing and I— I don’t know what the next step for us is but whatever it is, I want to take it,”

     Shepard froze.  

     The noisy chaos of the club faded to a distant buzz, like it was being played under water, and all time seemed to slow to a crawl.   Garrus stopped breathing.

     Had he made a mistake? Did she not feel the same way? They barely knew anything about each other, six amazing dates or not, hell, they still didn’t know what each other did for a living, why would she feel the same?  

     “Do you want to come back to my place?” Shepard asked

     Garrus thought his heart would burst.  He smiled, mandibles wide, eyes bright.

     “Spirits, yes,”

 

—————

 

     The skycar hummed through the morning Citadel traffic as Shepard navigated the vehicle amongst the tide of commuters.  She tucked a wild strand of hair behind an ear and leaned against the door of the skycar, her head resting against the comforting cool glass of the window.  Some early morning talk show played quietly on the radio but Shepard hadn’t comprehended a word of it, her thoughts better preoccupied with the turian she had left in her bed.

     She’d still be there, if she could have it her way, draped across his broad chest, his talons lightly caressing up and down her back, but a message from Finch had dragged her from bed and into the start of a new day and a new job.  It was transport day, a day earlier than planned which was a bit out of place, but Shepard had stopped asking questions a long time ago. She had made her bed with The Reds and now she had to lie in it, every single day.

     Shepard sat up, adjusting the controls of the skycar as she neared her exit.  Muscle memory did most of the work as she pulled out from the flow of traffic, her route commonplace and familiar.  Their manufacturing depot was a small thing, compared to other organizations, but it was nondescript and easily overlooked.  It was better for business that way-- can’t supply red sand if your facility is raided. No product meant no profit, and no profit made the bosses angry.  Shepard usually tried avoiding that outcome.

     Slowly, Shepard’s skycar descended into it’s parking spot.  The superfluous onboard VI started to rattle off parking procedures, but Shepard quickly muted it.  The VI had been a gift from Shepard’s superior, one he had acquired on the black market. It was supposed to keep the driver appraised of law enforcement proximity, but it had also come with an inane safety protocol that was cumbersome at best.  Yet, it was from the boss and one didn’t turn away gifts from those at the top, so Shepard endured.

     The skycar door swung up and open, its hydraulics hissing, while Shepard grabbed the duffle in her passenger seat before exiting.  It was a short walk to the entrance of the depot, which Shepard appreciated, and only required her to traverse two alleyways before coming to the depot’s main entrance.  Shepard pressed a slender finger to the smooth button beside the steel door. A loud buzzer could be heard from the other side.

     Shepard looked up, angling her face to be seen by the mounted camera above the door and gave it a small wave.  Running a free hand through her hair, she waited. Security at the depot was a bit archaic, but what it lacked in tech was made up for in its independence.  Its systems didn’t rely on a network to function and weren’t connected to anything on the extranet, everything was offline and off the grid. Shepard had insisted on it, and her superiors hadn’t cared.  As long as she kept making them money, she could do as she saw fit.

     The lock disengaged from the door with an audible _clunk_ and Shepard pulled the door open to move inside.  

     “Morning, Shepard!” a pair of voices greeted her.

     “Good morning you two,” Shepard replied as she stepped further into the depot, “Is everything ready for this afternoon?”

     “Yes ma’am,” the young girl supplied.  She was holding a clipboard tapping a blue pen rhythmically against it, “I’ve gone over everything for the new time and place of the transaction.  It’s all on your desk,”

     “And I’ve made sure all the cargo is packaged and secured to standard.  It’s ready to go when you are Shepard,” the young man added. He handed Shepard a mug of coffee which she happily accepted.

     “Wonderful,” Shepard said.  She took a sip of the coffee and hummed appreciatively, “This is great Parker.  We need to get you out of her and into your own coffee shop. You make the best cup of joe,”

     Parker looked away, slightly flustered, “It’s not that difficult to make, Shepard,”

     “Oh you’d be surprised,” Shepard smirked back, “back on Earth, Finch couldn’t make coffee to save his life.  Was more like mud. But to be honest, he never liked me much, so. it very well could have been mud…” Shepard trailed off contemplating how many cups of coffee/mud she had potentially drank.  She shuddered.

     The trio transitioned into the main room of the depot its noise washing over them.  The center of the room was a large open space filled with rows of chemistry stations manned by teams of two, the sounds of glass clinking and the rustling of paper packaging bounced around the room’s high ceilings.  The depot’s fluorescent lights were unforgiving in their exposure, and their constant source made it hard to keep track of time. Shepard had installed a large digital clock because of this. It was mounted to the balcony that oversaw the work floor and led to Shepard’s office, it’s large blue numbers a beacon of accountability.

     Shepard waved and nodded at her workers as she passed by them, or at least the best she could, carrying a duffle and a cup of coffee.  Many of the workers smiled back, the morning crew always a fairly chipper bunch, they’d be taking a lunch break soon according to the time. She maneuvered around the tables to head towards the stairway that led to her office, the young twins following close behind her.

     It was hard to imagine some days that it had been ten years since Shepard had left Earth.  Ten years since she had given up on a new life so she could protect two little orphaned twins the Reds had wanted to exploit.  She had had the papers for enlistment in her hands and all she had to do was sign them but she hadn’t; she could still feel the weight of them sometimes.  Would the Alliance’s burden have been as heavy as the Reds? She asked that to the bottom of shot glass most nights, but she knew the burden of leaving two helpless kindergartners behind would have been worse.  

     She believed that most days.

     Shepard stopped in front of her office door and placed her duffle on the ground before fishing out a pair of keys from her jean’s pocket.  

     “I can’t believe you still have that Blasto keychain,” Luna remarked, pointing her blue pen at the small plastic hanar in Shepard’s hand.  It was time-worn, the pink rubbed off on a few of the edges, but still recognizable.

     “Of course I do,” Shepard replied unlocking the sturdy door, “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received,”

_It’s the only gift I’ve ever received_ , Shepard thought to herself.

     Luna picked up Shepard’s duffle and followed the older woman into the office. Parker followed them both.

     “ _Y_ _ou_ won that keychain at an arcade,” Luna retorted as she placed Shepard’s duffle on the small couch she had in the corner of her office.

     “That I gave to you,” Shepard smiled, “Do you remember what you said to me?” Luna shook her head, “I had taken the two of you to see a Blasto movie that morning and we went to the arcade after.  When I won the keychain and gave it to you, you and Parker looked at each other, did your special twin mind conversation thing you do, and then Luna turned to me and said, ‘ _Shepard you were so nice to take us to see Blasto, you made us smile a lot.  So, we want you to have this cause we know you like Blasto too and he makes you smile.  You need him more than we do.'_ “

     "I don’t remember that,” Luna looked to Parker to see if he at least remembered but he just shrugged his shoulders.

     “Well, you were like seven.  That and you both immediately ate your weight in sugar and proceeded to throw it all up after getting on the moon bounce.  So, I’m not surprised,” Shepard tapped Luna’s nose affectionately, “Now, you two go finish setting up for this afternoon, I’ve got some paperwork to handle and need to look over the operation’s new parameters,”

     Shepard shooed the twins out of her office and closed the door.

 

—————

 

     Garrus woke to an empty bed, a sticky note on the pillow next to him, and his omni-tool beeping from a priority message waiting to be read.  He stretched, his limbs longs and tight as he extended them across the mattress. He had been surprised that both he and Shepard had fit in it last night.  Then again she had been primarily on top. Garrus released his stretch, his limbs going lax as he sat upright, the soft sheets pooling around his waist. He picked up the pink sticky note first.

 

_Got called in to work :(_

_There are leftovers in the fridge, help yourself._

_Last night was_ _amazing_ _, are you free this evening?_

_Message me later <3 _

_-S_

 

     He smiled.   _Amazing indeed,_ Garrus thought to himself.  Last night had been better than he could ever have imagined.  Shepard had ordered food and drinks from a local favourite of hers, one that served dextro as well, and it had been delivered right as they were walking up to the door of her apartment.  They spent the first part of the evening eating and drinking, chatting about this or that like they usually did, but then there had been no more wine, and then they were in bed. Garrus had never been with a human before, and he wasn’t sure if Shepard had been with a turian, he hadn’t thought to ask, but either way it had been perfect.   _She_ was perfect.

     Garrus pulled back the covers and sat on the side of the bed.  Shepard’s place was a good size, a large loft with an open floor plan, moderate furnishings, and large windows that looked out over the Wards.   Thankfully the blinds were semi-closed so he hadn’t been blinded by the Citadel’s day-cycle upon waking. Everything was well made and of a clean design, but it wasn’t extravagant.  He thought it suited Shepard. Garrus scanned the room for his clothing and luckily for him, most of it was on the floor by the bed and so easily recoverable and quick to put on.

     Fully dressed, Garrus freshened up in the bathroom before grabbing the dextro leftovers from the fridge and heading out the door to the skycab lot.  If the incessant notification on his omni-tool was any indication he wasn’t going to be getting a lunch break today.

     Traffic was relatively low and so Garrus only had wait a few minutes before grabbing a cab for himself.  Once he was situated and the cab on course, only then did he open his omni-tool. It was from his partner, Anaya, at C-Sec.

_:: VID CHAT ME NOW ::_

     Garrus sighed,   _No rest for the wicked, eh Vakarian?_ Garrus looked out of the skycab’s window and watched the Citadel blur by.  If Anaya was sending him messages in all caps he would probably need to go straight to HQ.  He groaned aloud and screwed his eyes shut. It was a good thing he kept a spare uniform at the office.  What he wouldn’t give to have been back in bed with Shepard.

     It only took a few seconds for Garrus’ partner to pick up his vid call.

     “Where the hell have you been, Vakarian?” the small asari questioned, “I send you a priority message four hours ago and only now you deem it fine to call in?”

     “Good morning to you too, Anaya,” Garrus rolled his eyes, “I’m calling now, what ya got?”

     The indigo asari pursed her lips, stopping herself from saying what she really wanted to before continuing on, “I’ve got a lead on that Tenth Street Red’s case we’ve been pursuing, something about a red sand deal going down today.  I need you at the station to-- interview our guest,”

     “Alright, Anaya, I’ll be there soon.  Vakarian out,” Garrus closed his omni-tool.

     He definitely wasn’t getting a lunch break today.

 

—————

 

     Shepard had busied herself for an hour or two, going over the paperwork Luna had prepared for her, as well as checking the ledgers to confirm prices and payment.  This was to be a routine shipment with a repeat buyer, but last minute changes always put her on edge and if something went wrong it was Shepard who would pay for it.  She’d pay the price if she had to, but she’d prefer not to if past experience was anything. It was why she ran such a tight ship.

     Just as Shepard had begun to wrap things up, a frantic elderly woman burst into her office with Parker close behind.

     “Miss Shepard!  Miss Shepard! You have to do something!” the woman cried, her grey eyes wide and her features twisted with fear, “They’re coming for us!”

     Shepard stood up from her desk and carefully guided the women to the couch Shepard had against the wall in her office.  The poor woman was shaking from head to toe, wringing her hands compulsively.

     “Linette, right?” Shepard asked, the woman nodded, “What is it?  What happened?” Parker came and sat by the woman, offering a comforting arm around the shoulder.

     “Tell her what you told me, Linette,” Parker prompted, “It’s okay, you’re safe here,”

     “That’s it!  We’re not safe!” Linette barked out, “C-Sec, they’re coming,”

     Shepard cut her eyes to Parker who gave her a curt nod, mouth in a grim line.  Shepard moved to kneel in front of Linette, covering the older woman’s w wrinkled hands with her own.

     “Tell me everything,”

     Linette took a steadying breath, “My nephew, he works as a janitor for the Citadel and he cleans the C-Sec offices.  You see, I vid call him on my break to check in and see how he is doing,” she looked up at Shepard, a bit sheepish

     “Of course you do, that’s perfectly fine,” she assured her, Linette relaxed, “I’m sure he appreciates you keeping tabs on him,”

     “But you see, Miss Shepard,” Linette continued, “today when he was cleaning they brought someone in.  At first he didn’t think anything of it, but then the office started getting real jittery and everyone was on edge, and then my nephew, he says that this big turian came bursting in and demanding to see who they had in the holding cell--” Linette choked back a sob, “My nephew said that when they brought him out of the cell to process him, the man-- the man was wearing a jacket--like yours Miss Shepard, and you could barely see his face for all the blood and bruises and cuts,”

     Shepard stared at Linette, her blood turning to ice.

     “What did he tell them Linette?” Shepard pressed.

     “My nephew heard one of the officers, an asari I believe-- the turian’s partner he thinks, he heard her talking about a red sand deal going down _today,”_

     “What about the warehouse, Linette?” Parker asked, “Did they say anything about the warehouse?”

     Linette shook her head, “I don’t know, he was so shook after seeing what they had done to that poor man,”

     Shepard stood quickly and began pacing about her office.  Whoever C-Sec had from the Reds had talked. How much and what about was the question.  She did know that their op this afternoon had been compromised. Did the C-Sec agents know about location or just that it was happening?  Had the Red’s member revealed the depot location? Shepard fisted her hands in her hair.

     Fuck.

     “Miss Shepard, I can’t go to jail, I can’t!  This job is feeding my family, no one else will hire me.  And you employ so many others who need this work, you’re the only one who helps.  What are they going to do to us? Are we going to end up like that boy my nephew saw?”

     “ **No** ,” Shepard turned sharply on her heel and faced Linette, her green eyes blazing, “That is _not_ going to happen to you, or to anyone here,”  

     Shepard strode out of her office and onto the balcony overlooking the work floor.  Her blood was no longer ice, but fire. Her people would not be compromised. _Her_ people would not be hurt.

     “Attention, everyone!” she commanded, her voice was strong and rang throughout the facility.  Almost instantly the work floor quieted and all eyes were on Shepard, “Please, clean your workstations, storing you materials properly, and then proceed to go home.  Production is to be temporarily suspended. Effective immediately. Do not return to work unless notified through the proper channels. You will be compensated during this time.  Thank you,”

     Shepard ducked back into her office and walked over to the locker she kept behind her desk.  She punched in the passcode, it’s metal door opening easily, and grabbed her leather jacket that hung on a singular wooden hanger.  Shepard shrugged it on and flipped her hair out from underneath the collar. She looked over her shoulder to see the back of the jacket in the mirror she kept on the locker’s door.   _The Tenth Street Reds_ was embroidered brazenly across the entire expanse of the jacket’s black leather back.  

     “Miss Linette,” Shepard turned to face the older woman and smiled genially, “go and be with your family.  You’ll be notified when you can return to work and don’t worry, you’ll be compensated in the meantime,”

     Linette surged off the couch, with some help from Parker, and beamed, “Oh, thank you Miss Shepard, thank you,”  she crossed the room to gather Shepard into a hug, “You are a good woman, Miss Shepard, thank you,” Linette gave a final smile and then walked out the door.

     “Parker,” Shepard began tidying up her desk, cataloging papers into piles for folders to be put into her duffle, “tell Joker and Jack to be ready in thirty minutes, and then you and Luna go home,”

     “Shepard, we could help--”

     “ _No_ ,”  Shepard slammed a ledger onto her desk, its thick pages slapping soundly against the metal, “we’ve talked about this.  Repeatedly. You and Luna _do not_ get involved, and you and Luna _do not_ go on jobs,”

     “But Shepard, when you were our age you were already running red sand--”

     “When I was your age,” Shepard interrupted, her words sharp, “I shouldn’t have been doing half the things I was doing, no one that age should.  I shouldn’t have had the life I did, but none of the adults in my life cared about that, and I will not let the Reds ruin you like it did me,” Shepard became tired, it seeping into her bones, “Now please, tell Jack and Joker, and then go home with Luna,”

     “Yes, Shepard,” Parker said softly and left, quietly shutting the door behind him.

     Pulling up her omni-tool, Shepard sent off a message to her boss.  Perhaps there was a way around this.

  _:: The shipment is compromised.  Possible C-Sec interference. We need to reschedule. -S ::_

     It wasn’t even a minute before she’d gotten a reply.

  _:: No ::_

     Shepard slammed a fist onto her desk, its glass top unyielding.  The Reds may have left Earth, but their methods were still the same:  consequences be damned, and everyone is expendable. Shepard pushed off her desk and gathered the last of her things from around the room.  She shouldn’t have been surprised. It was always the same. How many times on Earth had she had to run for her life weaving in and out of dark, dank alleyways with a backpack full of drugs.  How many times and all the while knowing the only way she lived was if she made it to the drop. And even that wasn’t guaranteed. Sometimes what was waiting for you at the drop was worse than what you were running from.

     Hopefully, the worse would be behind them today.

     She doubted it.

 

—————

 

     Garrus had to give the gang member some credit, he hadn’t made it easy for Garrus to get what he wanted, but what remorse he might have felt disappeared whenever Garrus remembered the whole reason the Reds member was in custody was for the fact that he had tried to poison a dextro aid shelter.  With that in mind, Garrus hadn’t cared about rearranging the face of that xenophobe. The Executor might have something to say about it, but Garrus would deal with that later, hopefully after a successful red sand drug bust.

     The Reds member had told Garrus that the head of production always made the deliveries themselves, and while he didn’t, or wouldn’t, say _who_ they were, he had told Garrus the location: a small, up and coming club that boasted a luxurious VIP lounge, but more importantly a secluded loading dock.

     Surprisingly, the club was relatively close to C-Sec headquarters, and only took Garrus and his partner a short 20 minute skycar drive to arrive.  While it wasn’t quite the Presidium, it was definitely a nicer area of the Wards, filled with new money and a diverse demographic. It was too early in the day-cycle to be considered busy, but there was enough foot traffic that if the C-Sec partners weren’t careful, they could miss something, or someone, important.

     Anaya had headed inside of the club, while Garrus had opted to case out the inconspicuous alleyway the club’s loading dock was nestled in.  It was a good place for a deal to go down, Garrus could admit. The dock was hidden from view from the main drag by some strategically placed cargo crates, and the other entrance into the alley was from a side door that you would miss unless you knew it was there.  That would be where the Reds would be coming from.

     “I’ve got movement in here, Vakarian,” Anaya’s voice cracked in Garrus’ headpiece, “owner is headed towards the back.  I’m following,”

     “I’ve got eyes on the alley, moving in,” Garrus responded, voice low.

     “Remember, we’re catching the buyer as well as the Reds here, don’t make a move until the exchange has happened,”

     Garrus didn’t respond but rolled his eyes.  He would stay back as long as he could, but he wasn’t going to let the Reds get away.  Not this time and certainly not after a year of investigating. This wasn’t some run of the mill gang member who ran drugs, this was the head of production, a major player in the Reds hierarchy and someone who needed to be stopped.  No matter what.

     Garrus crouched behind several crates and pulled his sidearm out, when he heard an automatic door hiss open and the sound of wheels.  Garrus carefully peeked out over the top of the crates and saw a small, mean looking woman covered in tattoos pushing a dolly with two large, chrome trunks stacked on top. _Two crates? They’re pushing that much red sand?  None of our intel said they had numbers like this._

     The woman pushing the dolley was followed by another woman, and both wore the signature Tenth Street Reds leather jacket.  Although, the tattooed woman had the sleeves ripped off of hers so her jacket was more of a vest. She looked familiar, too.  Garrus couldn’t quite put his talon on it, but he felt like he had seen her before. Garrus still didn’t have a good line of sight on the other woman though, she kept too close behind the tattooed woman for him to see anything.

     The back door to the club opened, and a smarmy human in a cheap suit stepped out onto the open loading dock, his arms wide to accept his guests.

     “Welcome, friends,” the man eyed the the two women greedily, “it’s a pleasure to see you again.  Thank you for accommodating me on such short notice,”

     Neither of the women said anything as they came to stand in front of the dock.

     “Ahh, yes, pleasantries after,” the man amended as he pulled a credit chit from his jacket pocket, “as you wish Shepard, credits first,” the man held out the credit chip, and the second Reds member stepped forward to claim it.

  _Shepard?_ Garrus froze, _No, that...that can’t be right._

     “Yes, a pleasure as always,” Shepard pocketed the chit and motioned to her companion and the crates, “Jack, would you please?”  

     The tattooed woman simply nodded and turned to face the crates, but before she could do anything Anaya burst out of the back door screeching.

     “EVERYBODY FREEZE!  CITADEL SECURITY, YOU’RE UNDER ARREST!”

 

 —————

 

     She knew that things were going to go sideways.  She had even assumed that there would be running today, but never in a million years did Shepard imagine that she would be running from Garrus.  

     When the asari C-Sec agent had burst onto the loading dock, all hell had broken loose.  The club owner had tried to run, Jack had flared her biotics to shield both herself and Shepard, and Garrus had stepped out of the shadows with his sidearm drawn and was already calling for backup.  There hadn’t been time to think, there hadn’t been time to deal with the pain of seeing the betrayal etched onto Garrus’ face, there had only been time to run.

     Jack and Shepard had run full tilt down the alley and back through the side door with Garrus hot on their heels.  The two women raced through the service tunnels and alleyways, quick to create distance between them and C-Sec.

     “Uhh, Shepard?” Joker’s voice sparked through the women’s earpieces, “we have a problem,”

     “What is it Joker?” Shepard asked, voice frenetic.

     “There’s a lot of comm chatter from C-Sec.  They’re headed our way and I don’t know if you remember but I have a shuttle full of red sand,”

     “Fuck,” Jack spat out as she kept pace with Shepard, “what’s the move Shep?  He can’t stay there long, and definitely not long enough for us to get there,”

     Shepard skidded to a stop, hand to her earpiece.  

     “Joker, get out and go to ground.  You know what to do,”

     “You got it.  Stay safe you two.  Joker out,”

     Shepard turned to face Jack who was already unhappy because she knew what Shepard was planning on doing.

     “No, Shepard, I’m not leaving you,” Jack’s hands were in tight fists by her sides.

     “C-Sec has seen you, and they’re going to make a report with with a description of you. It’ll only be a matter of time before Cerberus gets that information, you need to get off the grid.  It took us six months to find you last time, and what they did to you--” Shepard bit her lip to stop herself.

     Jack stared at Shepard, long and hard, rooted to the spot.  Her brown eyes were wide and frantic, unsure of what to do, but heavy footsteps in the distance made the decision for her.

     “I won’t let the Reds leave you to rot,” Jack swore, “I’ll make sure you get out,”

     Shepard wasn’t so sure, but she smiled anyways as Jack left her side.

 

—————

 

     She had waited for him.

     When Garrus had turned the corner, Shepard sat alone on top of a crate, legs crossed at the ankle and hands folded in her lap.  She didn’t look guilty, or surprised, or even remorseful. She looked like she was made of stone. She looked hard. Cold.

     “Rule number one, eh Shepard?”

     Shepard shrugged nonchalantly. It infuriated him.

     Garrus surged forward and grabbed her wrist, his large talons a vice.  He saw her wince but he didn’t care. His heart had been ripped out and now he had a gaping hole of sorrow and anger in its place.  He yanked off a pair of handcuffs from his belt and slapped it on both of them, the bite of the metal connecting them.

     “First time over with and you’re already introducing toys,” Shepard goaded, “kinky, Vakarian,”

     “Don’t you dare,” Garrus growled as he yanked on the cuffs to force Shepard to stand.  He loomed over her; she stared at him definitely.

     “You’re a liar,” he accused her.  His voice became soft, hurt, “you lied to _me_ ,”

     Shepard couldn’t meet his eyes, “That’s what rule number one is there for.  I can’t lie if we never talk about it,”

     The two stood there in silence.  Garrus couldn’t understand where it had all gone wrong?  Last night, this morning, the past two months-- it had all been perfect.   _They_ were perfect together.

     “How were you going to keep it hidden?  Were you just never going to talk about what it is you do?  Were you just going to keep on lying?!” Garrus asked, his voice louder and more wrecked with each question, “Was that all I’d ever hear, you taunting me with ‘rule number one’?”

     “What was I supposed to tell you, Garrus?” Shepard exclaimed, pulling on the cuffs trying to emphasize her point, “that I grew up in a gang on Earth?  That I followed that gang to the stars? That I gave up a new life to protect two kids who now want to follow in my footsteps? That I effectively run production and shipping of red sand all over the Citadel?  When should I have brought that up, Garrus? Hmm? After you told me of your life on Palaven where you always had something to eat growing up? Or how about after you told me of your idyllic holidays you spent with your entire family?  Then? ”

     Shepard’s chest heaved as she caught her breath.  Garrus stilled.

     “You-- you are the head of production for the Reds?”

     Shepard looked at him, and fumbled for words.  That... _that_ was what caught his attention?

     “Yes,”

     Garrus’ face fell.  What was he to do now?  The Tenth Street Reds had single handedly increased Red Sand availability on the Citadel by twenty five percent.  It was everywhere these days, if you knew where to look, and apparently Shepard was the reason behind it all. Slowly, over the years the Reds had increased their activity on the Citadel.  At first it was smuggling and black market items, but every year they grew a bit more, their reach and their ventures diversifying. They weren’t the biggest name in red sand but they were in the top five, and if the attack on the dextro aid clinic was to go by, they weren’t planning on staying in the red sand business.

     He had to bring her in.

     “We’re going to the station,” Garrus informed her as he began to walk back towards the main alley.  Shepard trailed along trying to keep pace with the turian’s long strides, “we’re going to the station and you’re going to tell me everything you know about the Reds and its red sand business,”

     “And if I don’t are you going to beat it out of me?”

     Garrus whipped around, appalled, “And what?  I should just let you go?”

     “Yes,”

     “Yes?”  Garrus echoed incredulously.

     “I’m the only one making sure our red sand is clean.  You want dirty sand flooding the Citadel? Cause it will,” Shepard stepped into Garrus’ space, she could feel the heat from his body, “The people my bosses have in the wings, the ones I wrested the red sand business from, those people cut corners.  Those people don’t care about how many people die or go crazy from a bad batch, all they care about is money,”

     “And you don’t?”

     “You were at my apartment, does it look like I care about money?” Shepard stabbed at his chest, her finger needling him, “I may be just another criminal, but I am nothing like those monsters who run the Reds,”

     Garrus softened at that.  

     “Shepard,” he reached for her free hand with his, “come to the station with me and tell me everything.  Tell me everything and then we’ll get you into witness protection. Help me take down these people,”

     “Garrus,” Shepard pulled away reluctantly, sadness weighing down her every breath, “I can’t do that,”

     “What?!  Why?”

     “I have loyalties I can’t abandon.  I have people I take care of,” Shepard pleaded with him to understand, “people who depend on me, Garrus, and certainly more than can be accommodated by witness protection.  No, there’s too much at stake, too many people’s _lives_ at stake.  I’m sorry,”

     Garrus was quiet.  Of course she’d protect her people.  He wasn’t surprised by it, she did, afterall, meet him in the alleyway, alone, presumably after sending the other woman she was with away.  She gave herself up so they wouldn’t have to pay the price. She would be the one to pay it.

     Garrus pulled Shepard close with his free arm, and she curled into him, her arm wrapping around his waist.  

     “Why did it have to be you?” he asked, mostly to himself.

     “I know exactly what you mean,” Shepard replied, her voice watery.

     Garrus stepped away after a few moments and fished a small key out of his pocket.  He unlocked the cuffs.

     “You’re free to go Shepard,” Garrus stared at the wall behind Shepard, “on the condition that you keep me apprised of any Red xenophobic activities so that C-Sec can counteract them.  That and you keep the sand clean. Do that and you won’t hear from me,”

     Shepard rubbed her wrist where the cuff had bitten into her skin, and frowned at Garrus.  Another time, another life, maybe they could have had something. Maybe they could have had the life the two of them had imagined in the sleepy early hours of this morning, but not as they were now.  Not as a Red and a C-Sec agent. No, now was the time to say goodbye.

     Before leaving, Shepard grasped Garrus hand one last time and leaned up on her tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his mandible,

     “Thanks for everything, Vakarian.  You were wonderful,”

 —————

 [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/155849087@N03/46798196341/in/datetaken/)


	2. Epilogue

Shepard sat at the bar with Jack, the duo taking shots.  It was some asari alcohol, sweet but strong and it hit just right.  This was the norm for Shepard these days, ever since she left the Citadel for Illium.  It had taken some careful planning and a lot of financial strategy, but Shepard was able to take her red sand production out of the black market and into legitimacy.  Red sand was legal on Illium, and most importantly it was away from under the thumb of the Reds.

 The Reds hadn’t been too happy with Shepard leaving, especially with her entire red sand production team, but after taking care of every single one of those bastards they sent to try and stop her or her people, they had eventually stopped trying.  Recruitment wasn’t what it used to be and they couldn’t lose the bodies.

 It was good to be off of the Citadel, not just because of the Reds, but because knowing that Garrus was there and what they had had, what they _could_ have had, killed her.  Jack and Joker, and even the twins, had tried to cheer her up, but they didn’t understand, couldn’t understand what losing him had done to her.  Her whole life had been a shit show, but then _he_ had entered the scene and finally it looked like it was going to be her turn for a happy ending.  Too bad that hadn’t been the case.

 “Hey, girls, these are from the turian at the end of the bar,” Aethyta placed two blue shots in front of Shepard and Jack and jerked a thumb in the direction of the turian.  Jack downed hers immediately, Shepard looked towards the end of the bar.

 “Uh, Jack,” Shepard stood and her knees wobbled, “You head on home, I’m gonna-- I should go,” Shepard didn’t stay long enough to hear what Jack responded with.  She was pretty sure the biotic threw a curse or two at her, but Shepard was pretty sure she’d forgive her. Shepard zig zagged her way down the bar towards the turian who had purchased their drinks.

 “You know I had given up on seeing you again,” Shepard whispered.

 “I guess it’s my lucky day,” Garrus steadied Shepard as she swayed on her feet in front of him, her green eyes were brimming with tears.

 “Yeah, mine too,” Shepard covered the turian’s hands at her waist with her own and squeezed, “are you real?  Or am I just really drunk and have passed out?”

 “No, I’m real,”

 Shepard choked back a wet sob and threw her arms around Garrus.   _Her_ Garrus.

 “Do you want to come back to my place?” she asked.

 “Spirits, yes,”

 —————

 [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/155849087@N03/46745597362/in/dateposted-public/)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it please leave a kudos or a comment, I'd love to hear from you :) 
> 
> Be sure to read the rest of the MERBB collection too, there are some stellar pieces!!
> 
> You can always find me on tumblr at bioticbarbie and my partner jubberry too :) Come hang out with us!


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